Dark Night Of My Soul
by Tessa4
Summary: This is a missing scene from the Season Four episode Deliverance. Have you ever wondered exactly what transpired between Evil Duncan and Robert Davis's lovely wife, Dominique, between the dinner table scene and the next morning? Perhaps it might have go


Gail D'Eon  
May, 2004  
  
This is a missing scene from the episode Deliverance. Have you ever wondered exactly what transpired between Evil Duncan and Robert Davis's lovely wife, Dominique, between the dinner table scene and the next morning? Perhaps it might have gone something like this......  
  
Dark Night of My Soul  
  
Dominique stared blankly at the handsome stranger who sat across from her at her table. She prayed that she hadn't actually heard him correctly, but dreaded deeply that she had. The words he had just spoken to her moments ago had hit her heart and wounded it like a physical blow and they still stung her ears. She felt ill and reeling from the pain those words had induced. It couldn't be possible that her Robert, the man who worshipped and cherished her every moment for the past four years could have betrayed her this way. That he could have gone off with another woman? No. His love for her was one thing that had sustained her in life and she had always been so secure in it. This revelation from a man who suddenly appeared at her door on a foggy winter night was the last thing she had ever expected.  
  
"Your husband is a fool, Mrs. Davis." Duncan continued. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but I couldn't go through with this deception any longer. He doesn't deserve the love of a beautiful woman like you. I think I'd better leave."  
  
MacLeod rose from the table and started to pull on his coat, but Dominique reached out hesitantly, and touched his arm. "No, please Duncan, stay. I don't want to be alone. Obviously, Robert didn't want me to be..." Her voice was tinged with bitterness. "He didn't seem to mind sending a handsome man to keep me company while he... Please. Have some more wine. Some more food perhaps?" She filled his glass, then her own and drank deeply from it. "Please, join me?"  
  
She was feeling the intoxicating effect of the wine now and her voice was much bolder as she held up her glass and said in a voice bitter with tears and disgust, "I think we should drink to betrayal. Yes! Let's drink to betrayal!" She drained the glass and reached for the bottle.  
  
"Are you sure Dominique? You've had quite a bit to drink already...." Duncan warned as he gently took her hand in his large, strong one.  
  
Dominique turned her sad brown eyes on him. "I haven't had nearly enough." She whispered as tears spilled from her eyes and dropped onto the starched, lacy white tablecloth.  
  
Duncan's dark, deceitful eyes watched her from behind the façade of a man who wanted to comfort and console a distraught woman who had just had her world forever torn and destroyed. He was taking an evil delight in watching that destruction. Oh yes, it was playing out just as he knew it would!  
  
From the moment the door opened and he was greeted by this delicate French woman, he knew that he would play her like a fine instrument! He recognized and took a vain satisfaction from the look she gave him when she saw him standing in the bathroom earlier, naked to the waist. A situation he'd cleverly, and for all appearances so innocently contrived. He'd seen it all his life on the faces of women who looked at him with lust in their eyes and wanted him. The noble Duncan MacLeod had always been too much of a boy scout to exploit them with his charms! He'd been a fool! This one was hungry and lonely. She had been abandoned far too long by that idiot Davis and she would be more than willing to take him to her bed. He planned to get her there eventually anyway, whether she wanted it or not! He'd have her and she'd never look at Davis the same way again! She'd be unable to ever again appreciate carnal knowledge of any man after taking Duncan MacLeod between her legs!  
  
"Dominique." His voice was low, achingly deep and soothing as he softly brushed the tears from her flushed cheek with the back of his fingers. "Don't waste your tears on him. He's not worth it."  
  
"You don't understand Duncan." She sobbed. "Robert is my life. He and I have been so happy the past few years. I met him here in Le Havre four years ago while I was working in a small café near the docks. The seamen frequented it and some of them were nice but mostly they were typical seaman, coarse and rude. You know what I'm talking about don't you?" She looked into his earnest brown eyes intently, with no knowledge that behind them was a man who had touched the very essence of evil, gloried in it, and was patiently waiting to use her as part of his plan for revenge against her man.  
  
"You have kind eyes." She continued. "And I can tell from the way you've been here with me tonight, that you respect women, that you treat them well."  
  
Duncan felt something strong pass over him at her words. He had a brief mental image of himself holding a beautiful laughing blonde in his arms, kissing her, and making love to her with an all consuming intensity. He winced at the memory, felt it weakening his single minded resolve to mete out this revenge on Davis, and quickly dismissed it.  
  
"Robert has kind eyes. Oh, he's not what you'd call handsome. Not in the way you are Duncan." She sipped her wine and cocked her head as she studied Duncan's face. "I think few men are as handsome as you but Robert is a good man and he's solid and strong and I can always count on him...." Tears were coming again. She rubbed at her eyes and continued. "He always talked to me with respect when I served him meals in the café. I fell in love with him and we married a few months later. Never once in the past four years has he given me a single reason to doubt his love, his fidelity, to think that he could be capable of betraying me this way. It's just not like Robert, not at all like Robert......" her voice trailed away in an anguished sob.  
  
"Let me take your pain away, if only for a little while." Duncan spoke softly. He stood and held out his hands to her. "I'll make you forget Robert and what he's done to you Dominique. Just for a few hours. I promise you, I will."  
  
Dominique turned her face up to him, placed her hands in his and he pulled her smoothly into his arms. Moody jazz was filling the room from the CD he had put on earlier and Duncan began to move, holding her close to his body, feeling warm tears falling onto his shirt and dampening his chest. He'd let this little drama play itself out for now. It wouldn't be long and he'd have Mrs. Davis on her back and have the ultimate revenge on that loser Davis.  
  
"There now, don't cry little Dominique." He breathed soothingly against her soft hair. "Forget about Robert tonight. Feel the music. Feel my arms around you." He tightened his embrace and pressed his hard, increasing erection against her. Dominique made to draw back slightly but he held her firmly in his embrace. She looked up into his eyes, now darkening with lust, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the force of his inexplicable handsomeness. The long impossibly dark waves of hair falling to his shoulders, the masculine jaw now shadowed with a slight growth of beard and the sensuous full lower lip, curved into a sexy smile that held her eyes riveted to his face. Duncan lowered his head and took her mouth hungrily. Her body and lips yielded to his and the kiss deepened.  
  
"Make love to me Duncan, please?" She questioned through the tears that rolled down her pale cheeks. "I need to feel wanted tonight."  
  
Duncan didn't speak, but answered her words with a scorching kiss as he took her up into his arms and carried her to a nearby sofa. He laid her down on it, and stretched out on top of her, his kisses becoming more aggressive and demanding. Dominique returned them with enthusiasm, her body eager to know more of this man.  
  
Duncan sat back suddenly and stripped off his shirt, revealing muscled chest and biceps to Dominique's appreciative gaze. In one deft motion he stripped off his jeans and briefs, revealing his glorious nakedness to a wide eyed Dominique who gasped at what MacLeod had been hiding under his jeans. She'd never seen a man quite so well proportioned as this Duncan MacLeod! Duncan pulled her skirt off and then peeled off her sweater. They were back in each other's arms again and Dominique was like a woman possessed as she clung to him and moved her eager hands over his hard muscled body.  
  
Suddenly Duncan drove himself into her and she cried out at the pain that seared through her lower body. She stiffened, alarmed at this sudden change in MacLeod's demeanor. He was thrusting into her, all signs of the gentle, respectful man who had sat at her table a short while ago were gone, replaced by this aggressive, violent man who seemed to be punishing her with every movement of his body.  
  
"What's the matter Dominique? Does that hurt? You've never had a man like me have you? A real man with a monster like this between his legs, huh?" He was mocking her now. Laughing as he continued to assault her. " Oh, you're a tight little bitch, aren't you Dominique! Davis is pathetic isn't he? He can't please you with his little prick, can he! But I can Dominique, yeah, I can! You like what you see don't you baby. You like what you FEEL! Do you think you can take it all? Hmm? I'll get you begging for more if that's what you want!" MacLeod breathed the words close to her ear, his voice evil and terrifying.  
  
"STOP IT" Dominique cried out, trying futilely to push MacLeod off her as he kissed her neck and breasts. The searing pain was becoming unbearable. "Why are you doing this?" She sobbed, her strength ebbing away as she struggled in vain.  
  
"You want it and you know it." He panted as he spoke "You've wanted my cock in you from the moment you saw me standing at your door haven't you. I could see it in your eyes, Dominique. You're just like every other hot bitch that looks at me!" MacLeod groaned loudly as he spilled his sterile seed into her, and then relaxed heavily on top of her, his weight leaving her gasping for breath.  
  
They lay there for what seemed an eternity, only the soft muffled sounds of Dominique's pain were audible. MacLeod finally pushed himself off her and stood up. Dominique rolled away from him, crying softly, feeling nausea rising in her when she felt the profusion of stickiness between her legs. He hovered over her, laughing, as she tried to cover her ears against the taunting sound of his laughter.  
  
"Come on Dominique. Enough of the tears and the rape victim act! You know you wanted me. So you've had me now. You'll have me again and again tonight so GET USED TO IT! ". His voice was pure, unadulterated evil.  
  
Dominique grabbed her clothes and attempted to run toward the door, but Duncan easily stopped her, slamming her roughly up against the wall, pinning both wrists above her head.  
  
"Oh, Dominique." His voice was a low, evil rumble from deep within his chest, his face leering at her, inches from her own. "Are you playing hard to get with me now? Would you like it again right here against the wall? I could get into that baby! That's a good girl now. Come on sweetheart. We can have a little fun together, don't you think so? Just relax and enjoy yourself. Don't fight me, huh? You know you want this huge cock back inside you again!" He was kissing her neck, the rough growth on his jaw stinging her tender skin, and roughly rubbing his revitalized erection between her legs.  
  
Dominique laughed bitterly. "Enjoy myself? With YOU? HA! What have I done to you that you treat me this way Duncan?"  
  
"Hey baby, you asked for it if I recall correctly. "Make love to me Duncan, please?" he feigned a female voice, laughing mockingly, echoing her earlier plea to him, causing Dominique to wince and drop her eyes. Slowly she raised them again, and leveled a defiant stare at the cold dark eyes above her, riveted on her.  
  
"Where is Robert? What have YOU done to him?" She asked in a cold voice.  
  
Duncan rolled his eyes up in thought and scratched at his stubbled chin. "Robert. Hmm, let me see. Last time I saw Robert he was lying face down in a muddy ditch, unconscious I think, with a huge bruise on the back of his head! I don't think you can expect to see him for a while!"  
  
"You're a MONSTER!" Dominique struggled against the large strong hand that pinned her wrists. She raised her knee, taking aim at his vulnerable crotch but MacLeod was far too quick for her.  
  
"Dominique! That isn't very NICE of you. I'm going to NEED that tonight and so are you baby!" He picked her up as she struggled valiantly against his superior strength and carried her the few steps to the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed. Suddenly, the mocking MacLeod grew very serious as he took a handful of her hair in his huge, strong hand and pulled on it firmly.  
  
"Listen to me bitch!" His voice was low and threatening as he spoke into her ear. "You will do as I tell you, or I'll kill you and I'm NOT JOKING! I've killed so many Dominique.... So MANY! It wouldn't faze me to kill you!  
I have a little matter to settle with ROBERT, and YOU are going to help me settle it!"  
  
Dominique shrank back from him in terror. She prayed silently that she was in the middle of a nightmare and she'd soon awake to find herself safe in Robert's arms and this brute MacLeod merely the product of a sordid, vivid and unexplored part of her imagination.  
  
But for now, he seemed very real.  
  
He paced the room like a big cat, his body muscular, lithe and graceful, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched him warily as she cowered on the bed, curled into a fetal position. God, the man was magnificent. She hated him. He was dangerous and evil, but he was undeniably beautiful and in spite of everything, she was physically drawn to that masculine beauty. And she hated herself for it.  
  
She lay there and continued to watch MacLeod as she thought about how she found herself in this situation, here, in her own home, the home she shared with Robert where she had always felt safe. She thought about finding him at her door. God, she was almost knocked over by the sight of him when she opened her door and found him standing there a few hours ago. Even unwashed and dressed in grubby work clothes he was the most ruggedly attractive man she had ever laid eyes on. How sincere he seemed, and so convincing as he told her about Robert's infidelity. The realization that Robert hadn't betrayed her at all suddenly empowered her and she drew strength from the thought. But where was Robert and what fate had he suffered at the hands of this madman, MacLeod? Was he dead, injured, would she ever see him again? She felt a surge of anger and determination now and silently swore to herself that she would no longer be MacLeod's victim. She would fight him the best way she could, the only way. With her intelligence and with her femininity. She couldn't fight him physically, his strength was far superior, but there were other ways to handle him. She'd have to be careful, keep her wits about her, and god help her she had to be convincing.  
  
She sat up, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair, and then reached for a robe that lay across the foot of the bed.  
  
"Did I say you could put that on?" MacLeod grabbed her wrist and held it firmly, causing her to gasp in pain.  
  
"I'm feeling cold, Duncan, I didn't think you'd mind." Her voice was strong, yet gentle and MacLeod loosened his grip on her wrist, but held it fast. Dominique ran her free hand up his arm and along his bulging bicep. He looked at her through narrowed eyes and an evil smile played across his lips.  
  
"It doesn't have to be this way mon cher." She purred as she ran her fingers through the soft hair that matted his chest. "It could be beautiful between us if you would just stop being so angry, hmm? So Robert pissed you off? OK. Fair enough. I can understand that you want to make him pay." She rose up on her knees and slid her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his.  
  
"Let me make love to you Duncan." She whispered as she slowly kissed his muscled neck. "Let me make sweet, gentle love to you this time."  
  
He tried to resist her. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth against the tender, familiar feelings she was pulling from deep within his heart. He didn't want to feel this way. It wasn't part of his plan! He felt all his heightened senses retreating, all his fury and anger dissipating. All he could feel was the warmth and yielding softness of this beautiful woman in his arms, lancing the pain from his tortured soul as her lips claimed his and her soft tongue slipped into his mouth and gently caressed it.  
  
They fell slowly together onto the bed. He drew back and looked at Dominique's face. A shaft of moonlight spilled through the window and slanted across her features and he suddenly realized that in his hell-bent quest for revenge, he'd failed to notice how lovely she was. How delicate her features, her porcelain skin, her silky brown curls spilling across the pillow. He ran his strong fingers gently across her face and through her hair. Gently and slowly, he dropped small kisses on her eyes, her cheeks, her ears......  
  
"What drew me to you was your face, your eyelashes, your hair, your ears..." "My whole head?" "And everything inside it..."  
  
Dominique lay still, looking up into his handsome face. His eyes were soft and gentle, not full of rage and intensity as they had been only moments ago. They were innocent, almost like the wide eyes of a child, and if she wasn't mistaken, they were brimming with unshed tears.  
  
"Tessa?" He spoke the word reverently, as though it were sacred. His eyes searched hers, as though looking desperately for something that eluded him. His lips were suddenly on hers, softly kissing her.  
  
"Is she your lover Duncan? Tessa?" Dominique quietly questioned him.  
  
But Duncan didn't answer her. He continued to kiss her, rolling over onto his back, taking her with him. She straddled him and gasped as he buried himself deep inside her and she moved her body against him, raking long fingers through the thick dark locks of his hair. He sat up, kissing her breasts hungrily, digging his large dexterous hands into her hair and feverishly kissing her, his tongue plunging deeply into her mouth and meeting her own In a sensual dance. She threw back her head and arched her body, feeling his length inside her, hard, hot and painfully moving deeper with each powerful thrust of his hips. His lovemaking was frenzied, desperate, almost as if he was trying to draw something from her that his very existence depended upon. And through it all, he kept whispering softly to her. "Tessa. My beautiful Tessa. I love you, I love you...." He cried out as his passion reached its peak just as bright colours suddenly exploded in her head and she was floating in a sea of glorious sensation whose waves rose and fell, carrying her along until they subsided.  
  
Dominique stretched out beside Duncan as he lay on his back with his eyes closed, his breath now coming deep and even. She looked at his beautiful profile in repose, and her heart went out to him as a single crystal tear rolled slowly from his eye and onto the pillow.  
  
She awoke suddenly, with no idea how long she had slept. The rhythmic sound of MacLeod's breathing was audible in the quiet stillness of the room. He appeared to be sleeping so she carefully attempted to slip quietly out of the bed. A strong hand gripped her arm.  
  
"Leaving so soon?" Duncan was awake, and for all appearances that tender lover of a short while ago had been replaced by the son of Satan.  
  
"I'm thirsty Duncan. I was going to get some more wine. Would you like some?" She casually replied.  
  
"Got anything stronger? Davis must have some whisky around here. He's a sailor isn't he?" Duncan spat out the words.  
  
Oh, this was just wonderful, Dominique thought to herself. MacLeod is psychotic enough. What will he be like after a couple of shots of whisky?  
  
She tried to maintain a casual demeanor in spite of her fears. "Of course he does and he's a sailor who drinks only the finest whisky!" She slipped on the robe and belted it.  
  
Duncan pulled on his jeans and took her arm.  
  
"I'll go with you." He said as he pulled her along to the kitchen.  
  
He sat her down in a chair and found a bottle of whisky in the cupboard she pointed out to him. He splashed it into a glass and sat down across from her, filling a glass with red wine and pushing it in front of her.  
  
Dominique smiled at him, took a long drink from the glass and gathered her strength for god knows what she was about to face.  
  
"Who is Tessa?" She asked softly.  
  
MacLeod tossed back the whisky in one swallow, grimacing as the fiery liquid stung his throat, and slammed the glass noisily down on the table, filling it again.  
  
"None of your bloody business!!!" He raised his voice threateningly.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that the way you said her name, the way you looked at me when you spoke it made me think that she's obviously someone special, perhaps someone you love?"  
  
"I DID love her." He said quietly, staring into the golden whisky. He closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against his temples, as though trying to soothe a numbing pain. "I'll always love her. Always. But she's gone. She's gone forever. She's DEAD." His voice was hard-edged with bitterness.  
  
He leveled his dark eyes at Dominique. They were so piercing, so filled with some indefinable emotion that she had to struggle to meet them. Her instinct was to look away, to hide from his searing gaze. She steeled herself, and met his eyes.  
  
His voice was hollow, low and flat as he spoke. "She was murdered you know. Murdered. By a drugged out little mortal who I could have squashed like a cockroach." Again, he poured the whisky down his throat, wiping his mouth across his bare forearm. "I should have ripped the little bastard's heart out when I had the chance. But I didn't. I let him LIVE. I showed him MERCY! It wouldn't bring Tessa back if I'd killed him, would it? Nothing ever brings them BACK! NOTHING!!! "  
  
Dominique regretted asking MacLeod about this Tessa. She knew now that this woman was obviously someone MacLeod had loved deeply. She was his weak spot and talking about her tragic death was feeding his anger. She had to keep him calm if at all possible. Her very survival this night depended on it. And what did he mean when he referred to her assailant as a mortal?  
  
"I should have been there." MacLeod continued to ramble about Tessa's death. "I could have saved her!" His voice was anguished. "I never can save them, you know that Dominique. NEVER! Not Debra, not Little Deer not Diane, not Linda, and not TESSA! NONE OF THEM. They all die, they all die and I go ON!"  
  
"Duncan, you can't blame yourself. It's out of your hands." Dominique made an attempt to comfort him.  
  
Duncan sloshed whisky into his glass again. "I'm never going to die Dominique."  
  
His sudden declaration startled her. "What are you talking about?" She leaned forward and touched his cheek. He grabbed her wrist in his iron grip and turned those feverish dark eyes on her again. "I'm IMMORTAL!!" His words struck her like a blow. He was laughing now. Laughter edged with hysteria, from deep within his soul. "Do you know that Dominique? Does that shock you, surprise you? It's true. And I'm not the only one. There are LOTS of us! Oh yes, LOTS of us. And they're all trying to take MY head! But they won't. I'm the strongest, the biggest and baddest of them ALL!!!!! I'm going to be THE ONE they talk about someday! They'll keep coming, and I'll keep KILLING them until that day!" He downed the whisky again, spilling it clumsily on the table as he refilled the glass.  
  
Dominique was thoroughly convinced that MacLeod was truly insane and feared now more than ever for her safety, for her very life. The terror must have shown on her face because MacLeod saw it there. He'd seen enough of it in his long life. Cold terror.  
  
"You don't believe me, do you Dominique." He stood and walked to the counter, bracing his weight against it with both arms. "You think I'm INSANE, don't you!! I'd have to prove it to you." His eyes scanned the counter and fell on a bread knife.  
  
He turned and walked toward her, knife in hand. Dominique tasted the coppery taste of fear as she stood and backed away from the advancing MacLeod. "I'm not going to hurt YOU with this Dominique. Oh, Dom-i-nique. What do you think I am?" He spoke menacingly to her. Suddenly he thrust out his hand and drew the knife deeply through his palm, his face contorting with the stinging pain as the serrated blade ripped through flesh revealing a red slash that spanned his broad palm.  
  
"STOP IT!" Dominique screamed. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She'd have to get him to a doctor now. He'd bloody near sliced his hand off! She grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and attempted to stem the blood that was oozing from the laceration. But before her incredulous eyes, the blood subsided, and the gash was fading, barely visible, then gone. Healed. As though it had never happened!  
  
Dominique was speechless. She stood before him, holding his large hand in hers, staring disbelievingly into his open palm. She raised her eyes and searched his.  
  
"What are you? How...." Her mind wasn't capable of forming the question she wanted an answer to. She didn't even know what that question might be. She wondered if she really wanted to know the answer. When would this nightmare end?  
  
"Do you believe me NOW?" He asked. "Do you doubt your senses Dominique? Or do I have to stab myself in the heart, die and revive to make a believer out of you?"  
  
"NO." She quickly responded. "No, I've seen enough. Please Duncan." She sat down heavily, feeling weak and light headed. In her hand she still held the napkin stained with MacLeod's blood, the only evidence of the deep wound he had inflicted on himself. She looked at it, and let it drop to the floor.  
  
Duncan drained the glass of whisky. "I shouldn't have told you this. I shouldn't have showed you THIS!" he screamed as he thrust his healed palm at her. "This never happened." His voice was cold and hard as he stared at the empty glass.  
  
"Don't worry." Dominique responded. She laughed, feeling exhausted and emotionally drained. "Who'd believe me anyway?"  
  
"Did Tessa know?" She had to know.  
  
MacLeod sat down in the chair across from her. "What do you care if Tessa knew?" He obviously didn't like to discuss Tessa. It somehow made him feel weak and vulnerable to talk about her.  
  
"Yes, she knew. And she didn't care. It didn't FRIGHTEN Tessa. She accepted what I am and she loved me in spite of it."  
  
"I'm sure she did." Dominique wondered to herself if Duncan was as aggressive, brutish and unpredictable as this with Tessa.  
  
"She was perfect, you know." His voice was tender and gentle as he spoke, his eyes softened and Dominique was suddenly aware of how beautiful they were, his lashes thick and dark against his cheeks. "She was beautiful.... She had a heart of gold, and her smile....." Duncan was smiling now, his face relaxed as he described Tessa.  
  
Dominique watched him, and saw a fleeting glimpse of a loving, gentler man as he smiled and his body relaxed.  
  
"Duncan, you shouldn't be here when Robert returns. You should leave. I promise he'll never know about what's happened here."  
  
"Oh no, Dominique!" Duncan's softness suddenly hardened back into bitterness and rage. "Davis has to know I had his woman! The whole point of this is LOST if he doesn't know what's happened here, isn't it? " "You wouldn't be trying to get rid of me now Dominique? Hmm? Not when we're having so much FUN!" He growled.  
  
"Would you blame me!" she blurted out, her frayed nerves reaching the breaking point. "Look what you've done to me here. You lied your way into my home, raped me, frightened me, and you wonder WHY I would try to get RID of you?"  
  
MacLeod was on his feet now pulling her up roughly from her chair. His handsome face was contorted with rage as he drew his muscular arm back and hit her face hard with the back of his hand.  
  
"Go ahead then." She screamed. "Beat me senseless if it will make you feel any better Duncan." She was crying now, her tears spilling from her eyes uncontrollably. "I don't care anymore. I just don't care...."  
  
Duncan released his hold on her and looked down at his hands. These powerful arms and hands that had kept him alive for the past 400 years, wielding his sword against equally powerful immortals were now hitting a defenseless mortal woman? What was he doing here? His head ached. He was confused, he wasn't himself. Or was he? Maybe this was who Duncan MacLeod really was. Coltec's quickening had finally unleashed the aggressive, formidable immortal that he had always kept carefully reined in under Duncan MacLeod's noble, benevolent veneer.  
  
Dominique sat in the chair again, tears rolling down her cheeks, stinging her heated face where his hand had made contact. He looked at her, and flinched at the realization that his powerful hand was responsible for the angry red stain that stood out in contrast against her pale cheek. Damned woman asked for it though. She wouldn't shut the hell up! He had to teach her that she couldn't mouth off to him that way!  
  
"Come to bed now." He ordered. "You need to sleep, and so do I. I can't think straight now." He took her roughly by the arm and pulled her into the bedroom where she threw off her robe, slipped into bed and curled up on her side. She had never felt so exhausted, so emotionally wrung out and she knew she should wait for MacLeod to sleep and then make her move, some sort of move, but she was so tired that sleep was all she could focus on and she was vaguely aware of MacLeod slipping into the bed beside her and pulling her into his strong arms before she felt herself falling into the deliciously black oblivion of sleep.  
  
She was awakened hours later by MacLeod roughly kissing her cheek, his stubbled face abrading her soft skin. "You were pretty good.." He said in a mocking voice. "I think I'll come back tonight!"  
  
Sunlight was streaming in the window. She glanced at it gratefully, silently giving thanks that the long dark night was behind her. She thought of Robert. What would this new day bring? Dominique swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped on her robe. She went to the kitchen, leaving MacLeod contemplating which of Robert's clothes he would pilfer from his wardrobe. She busied herself, boiling water and making tea. MacLeod swaggered into the kitchen, coming up behind her. He was grinning and whistling, looking dark and swarthy, his hair pulled back into a tail. He was dressed in Robert's clothes and he began to taunt her, fondling her breasts through the thin fabric of her robe.  
  
"Go please. I shouldn't have done this." She pleaded.  
  
"Oh, I think we should do this again." MacLeod replied.  
  
"DOMINIQUE."  
  
The welcome sound of Robert's voice filtered up from the stairway.  
  
"Please. The back stairs! You must leave." Dominique was relieved but fearful for Robert's safety.  
  
"Not YET!" MacLeod growled as he effortlessly forced Dominique down onto the table on her back, in front of him.  
  
"In here Robert!" she called out to him.  
  
It was show time. He anticipated the satisfaction he would derive from seeing Robert Davis's reaction to seeing his sweet little wife at his mercy. It was the reason for everything that had transpired between him and Dominique and he relished the outcome. He roughly held her as she screamed and struggled, just as Robert Davis pushed open the door.  
  
Robert was met with the horrifying sight of his distraught wife, lying on the table with Duncan MacLeod holding her down and leaning over her, planting rough kisses on her neck.  
  
"Oh Robert. You're just in time."  
  
"Take a chair and watch....."  
  
THE END  
  
" 


End file.
